Problems
by Mjeanne358
Summary: He is my foster-father, but why do I feel as though it should be something more? From Christine's adolescence, she grows up with Erik as the only man in her life. Will he walk her down the isle, or will he be the one waiting for her hand?
1. Wrapper

_Hello! This is my first Fanfiction, and I am very self-conscious about my writing. I love criticism and welcome any and all reviews! Please take the time to read, follow, favorite, or review. It would mean the world to me. I have written with Everyonedeserveslove on her fanfiction, Two Weeks. I helped with the last couple of chapters, and we are curently updating. Any suggestions are welcome, I am open to changing my story in any way to make it better. It is rated M for future chapters and the cursing and adult themes mentioned even in the first chapter. If any of that offends you, please refrain from going any farther. I will usually warn you if there is any explicit sex or things related to that. I know some people like to read M rated things, just not the sex scenes. I am totally fine with that, non taken. Other than that, the opening notes, please read, comment, suggest, and review!_

I lay on my bed, on my stomach, with my feet in the air. As loud as my android allowed, I played Maroon 5's Payphone; the explicit version with the cursing. I'm not actually sure if Erik would approve or not. Even after knowing him for so long, he completely confuses me. Erik must rub off on me because people call me confusing, too. If I'm angry, I get quiet and don't talk to people, which is really unlike my usual self, and when I'm silly, I jump around and talk a lot more than my usual self.

My gifted teacher, Mrs. Miller, is one of the few who can handle me, and she is like a mom. I don't have one, though... Both of my parents died when I was five, Erik told me. He said he fostered me after seeing me crying alone on the playground of the school I attend. It's a huge school. With all grades, its pretty crowded, but there are different buildings. Each building is big, also, and they are meant for each grade. Some special teachers have different grades come to their class, though, like Mrs. Miller.

"CHRISTINE!" Oh, no. His voice can get pretty loud, and he can make it sound as though it is somewhere he really isn't. Its fascinating.

"CHRISTINE!" I jump up, he is not happy. Walking out of my room, I shut off the music and place my phone in my classic-fit shorts. I travel through the hallway and stop in front of my unnecessary portrait hanging. That wasn't a fun day, he had to force me to take it. I was in a white dress with green polka dots, about ten years old, and, looking back, I feel absolutely retar-

"God help me... CHRISTINE!" Uh, oh. Walk, Christine. Left, right, yes, now again. I am finally in the huge, modern, dark den and Erik looks pissed, like, really pissed. I notice my lemonhead wrapper on the piano and close my eyes tightly, wishing myself away.

"Explain this!"

"I- I'm sorry..." I didn't know what else to say. There was no reasoning when he was angry.

"I'm sorry? God damn it, Christine! Do you have to leave a trail wherever you step? Your school books and unfinished homework are on the table. Your dinner plate is on the counter NEXT to the sink! Why is it so hard to place it, not even, six inches away? And this! Oh, this. A candy wrapper on my PIANO! Holy fu- God! Christine, please pick up your things. There are dishes to wash." His voice got dreadfully quiet. That's when he was his worst.

I nod, scurrying to pick up the wrapper off the sleek, black grand piano and place my plate on the left side of the sink. I grab my Algebra I and Earth Science book, all the while feeling Erik's cool eyes. I mutter an apology before hanging my head and walking to my bedroom. I place them down and quickly return, seeing him walk away. I finish the dishes and find him in his office rubbing his forehead, reading glasses in hand.

"I know you're upset with me, and I'm sorry... But, do you want to watch a movie?"

Still massaging his head, he closes his eyes and mutters, "Sure.

Instead of a movie, we decided on Friends, the T.V. show with Jennifer Aniston. I think it's a classic comedy show, but Erik seems completely impassive.

"Are you okay? Do you want to talk, Erik?"

"No. Watch the movie."

"Please, Erik. I'm really sorry..." No answer, so I snuggle farther into his chest. He has his arms out on the backs of the sofa in our home theater and I have my knees up to me, holding onto him. I lean up and kiss his cheek, careful not to breathe in his face. I am always very self-conscious about my breath. If it smells bad… Ugh.

"I really am sorry..." I mumble. He sighs before wrapping his arms around me. Finally! I smile and focus on the 70" Flat screen, trying to go through our argument. I didn't say anything disrespectful…

"You know how I feel about my piano, Christine." His deep voice made me jump.

"Yes, I love it, too. I didn't mean to leave anything on it. I sat down to play and remembered I had a wrapper in my jeans. I took it out and just kind of set it down..."

"That's no excuse, though. You aren't allowed to eat in the den anyway. Let alone have wrappers that should be in the trash bin. They are all around the house, Christine." I nod, not wanting to waste my reasons to him. He won't listen anyway.

"No, don't shut down on me. I know what you're doing. You asked me if I wanted to talk, I'm talking."

"Ok."

"How was school, today?"

"Just a normal Wednesday. Nothing special, really."

"Nothing special? No updates on Raoul?"

"Not really; still rich, gifted, and always in trouble."

"Still in trouble?"

"Yeah. Well, he got suspended for fighting with Colton..."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah. It seems he cursed out Coach Carter and then, when he went back into the locker rooms, Colton mouthed off to him. I guess that was the last straw, because he started throwing punches."

"Colton just doesn't know when to quit, does he?"

"I guess not. And, even after their brief friendship last year, they still seem to have problems with each other..."

He grunted quietly. His way of understanding, I guess, "I'm going to bed, don't watch anything I wouldn't approve of." He gets up from the sofa, leaving me to feel cold

"Okay, Erik." He's always so skeptical about me and doesn't trust me as he used to. I know why, but I'm just too curious for my own good, I guess. He's so collected and serious; I didn't expect to find that. I did, though, on the left side under his bed. A DVD box labeled XXX caught my interest, so I popped it into the DVD Player. I found an unwelcome sight of man and woman, naked, and on the counter of a diner. I was only six or seven, then. He walked in, gasping and switched it off as I ran to my room. He quickly followed, sitting on the edge of my pink, canopy, princess bed. Oh, it was so pretty. Anyway, he wipes away my tears and tells me I am never to touch his things. I remember crying harder, but, ever since then, I had been intrigued.

Then, when I was eleven, I came across pictures online. I didn't go looking for them, but they were similar to his DVD... Seeing the reactions of the women in the pictures, I tried... touching myself. Now, of course, it didn't do anything for me, but, because of my guilty conscience, I told Erik. His face was priceless, remembering it now, but back then, I was scared that he was going to actually hit me. He didn't... never did. He simply got incredibly uncomfortable and walked out. I felt a little betrayed. I had just shared something, extremely personal, to someone who was supposed to love me no matter what, and he walked away. Looking back, I know it was because he didn't know what to say.

Now, I read erotic novels and 'smut,' as they call it. It gives me that delicious feeling in my lower stomach. I am beginning to crave it. I told him I read things my age wouldn't but he doesn't know exactly what. I write, too. I write bad stories that I share with my best friend, Heather. She likes to read them, but can't write them. Meg, my other best friend, is a little more innocent. She got uncomfortable with one of my stories, so I don't let her read them anymore. She likes to hug me a lot. I think she likes me, like a girlfriend. She denies it and we got into a big fight where Heather and Meg stuck together. I didn't insult her, I only asked Heather if she agreed in thinking that Meg liked girls. It seems Heather told Meg I was talking behind her back. I wasn't, but Heather was only being there for her friend. They have been friends for a lot longer.

I haven't been friends with people very long before I would change schools. Being in gifted, it was difficult to find a program for me, so I switched around, having to make new friends every two years or so. It was difficult, but I managed.

I yawn, suddenly feeling tired. I don't have a bedtime; just when I'm tired, or when I know I should go to bed. He trusts me with that. I turn everything off and travel to my bedroom, passing his on the way. I open the door to say goodnight, and am surprised by the sight of a toned, very naked, butt. I gasp and shut the door... Crap, he looked good. I hear him muttering curses under his breath and race-walk to my bedroom. He is there, though, turning me around to face him.

"Ta, ta, ta, Christine!" I try my hardest not to look down, but notice he put loose pajama pants on when I do anyway.

"What did you see? Hey! No, come here," Why can't he just let me sleep?

"What did you see, Christine?"

"Just your butt. Can I go to sleep now?" I choose blunt and bored as my persona.

"Why don't you knock?! You know, people actually get dressed in their bedrooms!"

"Why is it always my fault? Why do you walk around in your bedroom, naked, like a weirdo?! I want to go to bed!"

"Look..." He groans, running a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry. Goodnight, Christine,"

I turn away and walk towards my bedroom, "Goodnight, I love you..." My voice is unusually quiet.

"I love you, too."

Why is it always so weird around him? It's like I'm comfortable but I have a guard up. I always suck in my stomach, because I don't have a flat stomach, around him. I always try to look pretty where he's concerned. He's just Erik, though. But, is it wrong to think your foster-father is extremely sexy? He's got big feet, a size 12, but their handsome; long toes, and they aren't too hairy, he keeps them well-groomed, too. Wait, why am I talking about feet? He got long legs, strong thighs, and thick, muscular calves. A narrow hips and waist compared to his broad shoulders. He's got a four-pack, and a chest lightly dusted with dark hair. An angular jaw, beautiful green eyes, and full lips. And, to top it all off, a head of thick, black hair. He's gorgeous. The only reason he doesn't get dates, I think, is because of the mask. It makes him really mysterious, he only wears it when my friends come over or he leaves the house for work and other things.

He owns Destler Corporations, a huge company and he's stinking rich. I'm not allowed to sleep over at friends' houses. He says our house is big enough for them to come over and that if I'm over there, he can't keep an eye on me and make sure I'm safe. He just doesn't want me doing things I already do.

I snuggle into my Paris bed. It's beautiful, my whole room is. It's a deep blue and black color-scheme. He helped design it with me around my two favorite colors. I've got a full, black platform bed with a bedding set of Paris designs. It's custom-made. 'Nothing but the best,' Erik says. He spoils me and I know it, but I still love him…

_Well, there it is. Chapter 1 : Wrapper. Christine is kind of outgoing in this story. She is usually very quiet in others, but I think Erik is quiet himself. So I think they would balance each other out. In a relationship, you can't have two obnoxiuous or wo shy people. It usually doesn't work out. And, while Erik is kind of outspoken, sometimes, Christine can get a bit shy, too. Read, comment, suggest, and review!_


	2. Math

_Hey guys, I see I have some followers and reviews! That's awesome, I love you all! This is Chapter two: Math. I hope you all enjoy. I was kind of getting used to posting and writing for fanfiction, so I think this chapter is better written that the first. Any reviews, suggestions, or comments are absolutely welcome. I love criticism, so if you've got some, let me have it! Thanks for reading!_

_SO SORRY, guys! I completely forgot about my warning about the sexual parts! OMG, I feel really bad, but I do promise to let you know from now on!_

Holy crap, why did I think to do this?! My alarm goes off at 4:47 am: beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. I'm now a zombie. Well, that's what it feels like, anyway. I'm hungry and its really hard keeping my eyes open. All of my muscles are calling me back to my warm, soft bed, and to top it all off, I find Erik watching T.V. in the den when I walk out. If this is going to be like the weird 'morning-after' kind of thing, I'm going back to bed.

"Why are you up?" He sounds tired, too. Why are YOU up, Erik?

"I was going to get a head-start today... I don't know, why are you up?"

"Couldn't sleep, so I decided to walk out here, watch some T.V." He shrugs, so, I shrug.

Walking into the kitchen, I get my bowl out of the cabinet, look around the corner, hold out my bowl, and ask, "You want some?"

"Not cereal. I wouldn't mind an omelet, though." Alright, its 5 in the morning and Mr. High Standards is already kicking. Great.

"Okay, but you have to cut everything up. I don't want to lose a finger in this state." He chuckles, making me smile. I finish my ceareal while he makes his own omelet. He's been trying desperately to get me to learn to cook. I know how to follow a recipe, its just that I find other things to do.

I take advantage of my extra time by trying to tame my hair. It's no use, anyway, because no matter how good it looks at home, it all goes to shit when I get to school. I choose a blue lace cami and put my uniform shirt over it. My orange converse make me look like I have clown feet, so a no to those. I wear a size 8, not too irregular or big, but when they're in converse...

I walk out and see Erik finishing up, "Will you drive me to school today, Erik?"

"Why, you woke up early enough. You aren't going to be late."

"I know, its just fun to ride with you..."

"Oh, well when you put it that way," He smiles as he adjusts his tie in the mirror in the den and turns to face me. "How do I look?"

"Oh, god. What would you do without me?" I giggle, walking up, standing on my tippy toes, and fixing his hair. It decided to pop up on his head and make an unexpected appearance.

"It wasn't that bad..." I giggle again. He will never accept the fact that he needs help sometimes. He can be such a kid. "Okay, I will be ready in about five minutes, but you, being a girl, will need another hour. With that in mind, you've got fifteen minutes before I start the car and leave you for the school bus."

"Okay, we don't need a reenactment of Deep Blue Sea, no need to get fiesty." He chuckles again and I ask, "When am I going to get my own car?"

"When you earn it. Besides, you aren't even 17, yet."

"Almost! I'll be a Junior next year, and its just about April..."

"Oh, you are hoping to get it for your birthday... I didn't earn my living just sitting around doing makeup, you know."

"I don't even wear makeup! You won't let me,"

He laughs, "That's right, you're beautiful without all of that fake shit." His finger dabs me on the nose.

"No, I have acne and too many freckles. And, my hair never cooperates,"

"Who do you have to impress?" He raises an eyebrow at me, challenging me.

"No one. Just in general, I want to look pretty."

"When you are finished getting ready, in fifteen minutes, meet me outside." I cross my arms and watch him walk away. I can't help but picture his naked butt under his clothes...

The ride to school is very awkward. Like last night is just as vivid to him as it is to me. It probably is, he was the naked one... He turns the on the radio to Kings of Leon, Sex on Fire. God, why? He quickly changes the station to Soul Sister. That's going to be in my head all day. He turns the whole radio off and looks sideways at me. I know he's wondering if I want to talk about last night.

"I'm sorry I walked in on you. I should've knocked."

"Its fine. I just wanted to make sure you were... okay." His hand tightens on the steering wheel.

"If I was okay? Why? Did you think I would be scarred for life because I saw your butt?" I laugh.

"It wasn't the most pleasant situation." He's too serious, and it makes me a little upset.

"No."

We arrive at school and he unlocks the door, "Thanks for the ride. Have a good day at work, Erik."

"Okay"

"I love you." I try to get him to loosen up. His poor employees won't have the best day if he's not.

He shakes his head, looks at me, and smiles a bit, "I love you, too. Have a good day." I smile.

The day flies by. So fast, I'm left in the car with Erik just this morning. By t he time seventh period rolls around, I'm a little dazed...

"Heather, please, not now..."

"Why not? Its the perfect time to finish my story." She does not stop talking, but I love her to death.

"I can't write right now, and, its just weird writing, like that, about you."

"Its not just me, its Ronnie, too." She gave me a million dollar smile.

"Yes, but thinking about that, about you, and anyone else is just plain weird."

"Fine." Yes, now I can focus. But, I can't help but think of something other than math...

_Her folds were soaking. Rosy, wet, throbbing, and beautiful. Her heavy breathing and little mewls of begging were driving him insane. So closed to her ripe, fresh womanhood, he couldn't help but inhale her sweet scent. Aroused… because of him. Such a turn-on._

_He gave an experimental touch to the hard, swollen nub towards the top of her sex. Her hips jerked up and she cried out. He gasped at the sound and worried he'd hurt her. She then groaned. Why? He gave another touch to the same spot and heard her release a low moan. He looked up to see her face tense, her eyes closed, and her head thrown back._

_"Touch me. Ohh, please. Don't tease me…" She liked it? He would never take something as valuable as her virginity, her innocence, but he wanted to please her, nonetheless. He wanted to take their relationship to the next level. So, here he laid, between her legs, hand on her hip, eyes devouring her every curve. He was so inexperienced. Never having touched a woman, he knew there would not be another for him. He just hoped he could please her and love her enough to make her feel the same._

_He took the pad of his finger at ran a line from the sensitive nub down to her opening, seeping liquid. She moaned long and loud, making him groan quietly in response._

_"Why… Are you… Does this… do something for you?" She was breathless, her breasts were shifting as her chest rose and fell with short, heavy breaths._

_"Oh, yes. Seeing you open to me, only to me. God, you're beautiful..." His pants were useless. They did nothing but keep his throbbing erection restrained. He would have already removed him if he trusted his willpower to keep himself from taking her. Taking her long and hard and fast. That's what he wanted to do. Take her where no one ever has and no one ever will. If he took her, she was his. He would never give her up._

_He brought his face close and nuzzled his nose in her precious dark brown curls. He inhaled, bringing his finger down that same path as before. She gasped._

_"Please…"_

_"What do you want, my love?"_

_"I don't know," she groaned, feeling confused and frustrated. Her stomach contracted every swipe of his devilish finger. He looked up, smirking. He suddenly felt empowered of his power over her. He knew he could somewhat control her in the bedroom, if nowhere else. He slowly ran a circle around that sensitive part, gently stroking it, and circling it again._

_He threw his head back, shook his long, black hair from his face, growled, and harshly brought his tongue to her nub, tasting and taking. She screamed. Grabbing his hair and entangling her fingers, she arched up to his hungry mouth._

_He grabbed her waist and slid her closer to him on their queen-sized bed. She raised up on her elbows and looked on as he attacked her. He looked up and saw the pleading in her eyes. More._

_He slowly brought a long, knobbly finger to her opening and traced her folds. She whimpered, fell back on the bed, and yanked harder on his hair. He heard her whisper his name and pushed inside._

_"Ohhh, harder. Harder, please!"_

_"You taste so good, Christine," He took another lick of the length of her sex before taking that nub and sucking. His bight green eyes were now deep and sensual._

_"Oh!" She released his hair before grabbing the sheets in desperation. The peak of that mountain was so close and he could feel her rippling and pulsing around his finger. It was too much. He had to get out of those pants-_

"Christine!" I look around the room, seeing everyone gone. Oh, class was over. I laugh at myself, making Heather and Meg look at me incredulously.

"What the hell, Chris?"

"Sorry" I laughed again, looking one last time at my seat in the back of the classroom. Walking out for the car line to wait for Erik, I think about my little event in math, earlier. I didn't have a name for my man, but I saw black hair and green eyes. Did I see... Erik?! Holy shit. No, I couldn't have, I just think black hair is attractive. I've decided Erik is attractive and he has black hair. Its just a coincidence.

_I hope to update soon. Homework is tough lately, but I will trudge on for you guys!_


	3. Window

_Okay, so this story is starting to resemble Fifty Shades of Grey. I like the concepts of that story. I have some new characters to meet today, and I hope you enjoy them! Enjoy and please, please, please, review, favorite, or follow!_

_Holy Shit._ Erik walks in behind me, groceries in hand, and kicks the door closed. I hear him gasp, audibly, and my heart and stomach drop, along with the groceries in my hands. The bread, cereal, French Fried onions, and blueberry oatmeal hit the floor in a 'thud'. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to disappear. Erik sets is down and embraces me from behind, dragging me backwards to him, back outside the door.

"Christine, please... Fuck!" he reaches into his pants pocket and gets his Droid out. "Tyler! Get here, now!" He screams into the phone, making me jump, and as he shuts his phone and tries to walk me to the car, it dawns on me. Someone is out to get me. They want to hurt me and, possibly, kill me! I start to sob, turning myself around and hugging Erik close.

"Christine." He strokes my hair and then holds me at arm's length. I pull, trying desperately to feel his warmth, and he pushes me away again, trying to question me. Why doesn't he understand I don't want to be asked questions now? I just want to smell his delicious smell and feel him holding me. Why do I feel this way? He's just Erik, why do I want to hold him, or smell him for that matter?

"Christine, stop. We need to figure this out. Who-?"

"Why won't you hold me?!" I am full on crying by now, tears running down my cheeks.

"Christine?" He hasn't even finished my name before I run into his car and hide in the backseat. I feel so alone, so helpless. As though, there is nothing in the world that can fix the feeling of someone chasing you. It's like an endless adrenaline fix with nothing to let it out on. He is running after me, through the grass, onto the solitary driveway for the next 5 miles, and into the car. He leans over the front seat, looking at me with a foreign expression.

"I don't want to be asked questions, Erik. I just want you to-" All of a sudden, an expensive looking car pulls up, and a big, bulky man walks out. He looks at Erik's car and then strides into our house without a word. Tyler, I presume. Erik sighs and climbs in the backseat with me, pulling me close.

"I'm sorry, Christine. We're going to figure this out for you. No one is going to hurt you." He runs his fingers through my hair, coming across knots, and pulling them loose. I sigh and snuggle into him as he continues, "What were you saying?"

"I just want you to hold me." He does. And before I cry myself to sleep, I briefly think about all the photos scattered on the floor and the note, written in red, all over the pictures of me, that said: "Your turn, Christine."

* * *

I wake up in a luxurious bed. In a room that looks as if it was decorated for a princess. Its decorated with blue and black and I wonder if Erik did that on purpose. I walk out of my bedroom to find a normal, chic hallway that looks impeccable. I walk to the right of me and come into a huge den area with a wall that is nothing but a window, and it has a beautiful view of Chicago. I gasp as I hear a stereo come on to classical music. I gasp and turn around to see Erik dressed in black slacks and a white button-down. He walks towards me, holding his hands out and smiling at me.

"Do you like it here? It's not too far from school, but I figured you'd want to get away for a bit."

"Its beautiful, Erik. Gorgeous," I look out of the glass window and feel him grab hold of my arm. The violins of the music seep into my skin and make me close my eyes. Or is it the feel of Erik's hands on me? I try not to think of the latter.

"Dance with me."

I look down and smile, but whisper, "Okay." He skims his hand down my arm, making me shiver, and holds my hand. He grabs it and twists me to him, securing my waist in his hand. I hold fast to his broad upper arms and he pulls our stomachs together, mine slightly lower than his. I come up to his mid-neck and can smell his body wash from, what I could only assume, a fresh shower. I look up and, stupidly, realize his hair is still wet.

"Shower?"

"Yes. Do you want one? You have a bath in your room..."

"No, dance with me." I wonder vaguely where we are, but don't dwell much. He envelopes me and I notice how I fit perfectly under his chin and how our hands mold together.

"Prelude of Tristan and Isolde by Wagner." He states calmly, as though it's the most normal thing.

"What?" I look up at him and he smirks

"Wagner. The music is by Wagner. Do you like it?"

"Its lovely, serene, but sounds very melancholy." It suits Erik very much. He starts to move us, slowly, around the den area, leaning into my hair and holding tight to my waist. I feel so safe here, as though there was no break-in to our home, no intruder threatening my life. That happened often with him. He then brought us into the kitchen, all the while pressing our bodies together. Sighing, I slipped closer to him and felt like nothing could ever go wrong.

"Hungry? I'll fix dinner." He stopped our moving, but held me just as tight.

"Yes." I smile up at him and he smiles back. All of a sudden, he lets me go and bows. I stare at him curiously.

"Thank you, my dear, for that wonderful dance."

I giggle at him before replying, "You are quite welcome." I then wonder how he will make dinner. It looks as though we are in a hotel, so wouldn't there be room service or something? "Erik, how are you going to make dinner?

He smirks at me and walks towards a... refrigerator? How did I not see that? "I ordered everything I would need ahead of time. Nothing but the best." He smiles broadly and opens the fridge to a colorful variety of thawed meat, vegetables, fruits, and even a few pastries with chocolate and nuts. _Wow, Erik. _

"Now, what would you like?"

"Surprise me." I whisper, half-smiling at him. He nods, smirking, and travels to another room in the kitchen. A pantry, I guess.

I leave him to work his magic, travelling back to the chic hallway I first came through. I pass my room and go farther to three more bedrooms. I open one, empty. And another is Erik's at the end of the hall. I walk in to see his bed dishevelled, which is rather unusual for Erik, and there is a certain smell to the room that is **definitely** not Erik's. I open the closet door, planning to see suitcases spread out on the floor. Instead, I find all of his clothes hanging in the big walk-in closet. At first, I think there isn't any way he could have gotten all of this here so soon, but then remember that if he had one of his "workers" do it, it was very possible. I feel his clothes, walking farther into the room, smelling Erik's scent here. Turning around, a single box on the shelf by the door catches my eye. It isn't seen when you first walk in and you would have to be about as tall as Erik to reach it. I grab a loose hanger and try to pull it to me. It works. I place the hanger back and unlatch the 12x6" box. I see an assortment of colorful packets and, when I lean closer, see that they're... condoms! And birth control!

In one corner of the box, there are about four packs of tiny pills and the rest holds too many condoms, for me to count, in different sizes. A rush of jealousy runs through me as I realize Erik must have used this on someone, and the weird smell was that of sex. I return the box, exit the closet, and close the bedroom door behind me, walking down the long hallway. I come to the bedroom I hadn't checked yet. There is a light under it, so I walk in. A room about the size of mine with a queen-sized bed with a beautiful green and pink bedding. My focus shoots to the open door of the bathroom, though. In nothing but a lacy bra and panties, there stands a woman.

_Okay! **Sort of** a cliff-hanger, but I had to do it. It would have been too long if I kept going. Sorry for the wait, I didn't plan to have a whole week between updates. I will try to do better! If you have any suggestions, please say something! Anything you wanna see happen: sexual, interesting, romantic, etc. You can PM me or send a review in. I am just kind of winging this story, so if you want to make it better, I'm willing to alter and change, if necessary! THanks again! Remember, review, favorite, follow, and comment!_


	4. Ding

_Okay! Well, this story is getting CRAZY. I have surprised myself with the way things have been going, but hopefully, you enjoy! Review, follow, favorite, and comment. Also, feel free to PM me, I get automated e-mails, connected to my phone, so if you ever want to talk, I'm there! Thanks again, guys, for reading._

Long, untamed, brown hair traveleed half-way down her back and big blue eyes too big for her face. This mystery woman stood looking at the mirror and pushed her breasts together, creating ridiculous, unnatural cleavage. She has beauitful tanned skin, a toned stomach, and a fresh face I have only dreamed for. Turning and seeing me staring, wide-eyed and angry, she gasps and tries to cover herself. I slam the bedroom door and stomp to mine a little farther down the hall.

I hear the woman calling my name and go into my closet, taking note of all of my clothes hanging up. I keep the light off and hide in the corner, hearing Erik calling my name and drowning him out. He must have had sex with _her._ I'm seething, with anger, and have no idea why.

Why am I so mad that he slep with someone? It can't possibly be because I want to have sex with him. As delicious as that would be, it would also be very, very, VERY wrong. Maybe it's because I'm too spoiled and want all of his attention. But, he can't possibly think the same things as me. He wants delicious sex with that woman, not a pimply teenager.

He storms in my closet and flips the light on, worry etched all over his beautiful face. He stands, hands on the doorframe, tall and sexy.

"Wha-?"

"Don't. Theres no need to worry about me," I stand up and walk in front of him, seeing the petite woman standing behind him. "I'll be with Meg and you can go back to your," I walk past him, into my room and stop at the door. I turn to look at them, and grimace," Fuck buddy." I slam the door and run to the elevator, wanting desperately to never see the slutty woman again.

I hear him yelling something, to no one in particular, and scream back, "Have fun, " as I press the down button on the elevator. Stepping into the elevator, I see him, absolutely furious, walking out of the hallway. I quickly press the 11th floor button and realize we are in the penthouse suite. No wonder it was s beautiful.

"Christine DAAE! What the fuck?! Get your ass back in thi-" the elevator door closed on him. I smile to myself, feeling proud, but knowing once he finds me, I'll get fried like a french fry.

I stopped on the eleventh floor because I knew he would most likely expect me to go all the way down. _Shit!_ I realized he would see which floorI pressed bby the number above the elevator in our suite.

When I get off, an elegant couple, about 35 years old, are waiting to get on. The woman's hair is absolutely beautiful; blonde curls pinned neatly atop her tan little head. As they get on and press the button, though, the man leans down and gently presses a kiss to her lips. The woman wraps her hands around his neck and immediately deepens the kiss. As the door closes, the man brings the woman, gently, against the wall and I have a feeling her hair won't stay like that for long.

I wonder what it feels like to want someone enough to take them while in an elevator. To love them that much, or to trust them with your pleasure.

I make my way to the door labeled 'Stairs.' Going in, I hear the faint click as tit closes behind me, along with the ding of an elevator.

"Christine!" _Oh, shit!_ I giggle, feeling dangerous and rebellious while I run up the stairs. I hear him opening the door and know he's spotted me.

"Christine, god dammit!" I look back and squeal, feeling a rush of adrenaline run through me. He takes the stairs two at a time, and, all too soon, I feel his muscular arms wrap around my waist. I flail, aware of the fact that we're on stairs and I could easily fall. Kicking and trying to break free, I hear him say, "We are on stairs, Christine! You are going to fall!" _Naw, I just have a stupid bug crawling all over my brain and can't comprehend what I'm doing. Way to state the obvious, Captain._

All of a sudden, he turns me around and forces me to sit on a stair, trapping my thighs between his knees and capturing my wrists in his hands.

"Christine?"

"Who is she?" I get right to the point. There is a chick staying in the same suite as us and I'm just supposed to go on with not a care in the world?

He sighs, closing his eyes and loosening his grip, "Mrs. Anastasia."

"What?"

"You weren't suppposed to meet her yet," he lets my arms go and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Well, why is she living with us? And why are you sleeping with her?" I accuse him again, desperate to get the truth.

"I am not sleeping with her! Why have you got that in your pretty little head?" He tucks my hair behind my ear.

"But... I saw the condoms and birth control," I state calmly.

"What?! Why did you look through my stuff? I try my hardest to respecct your privacy, Christine, why can't you do the same?"

"Erik, I'm sorry, calm down. I was just in your closet, looking at your clothes. They smelled like you, unlike your bedroom... When I turned to leave, I saw the box, and, when I saw its contents, I assumed the smell was because of sex..." I look down, feeling ashamed for my curiosity and stupidity.

"Well, you should stop assuming. When we arrived, I called for a massage. The smell must have been a mixture of oils. Mrs. Anastasia was... hired..." He trailed off, removing his knees from my thighs and sitting a step lower than me.

"Oh, god. Erik, don't tell me she's a hooker!"

"No! Ugh, why do you always think I sleep around like that?"

"I don't... Sometimes, I think why you **wouldn't** sleep around. You're not bad looking. I just..."

"Christine, we both know what's under this mask- Wait," his tensed demeanor from talk of his mask changed abruptly, making me confused. "You just... what? Got jealous?" He smirked at me and raised an eyebrow, causing me to hit him on the arm.

"No. I just... she startled me, is all. I didn't know what to thin-"

Wait. How do you know what sex smells like?" He got angry, all of a sudden, realizing my earlier comment.

"I don't, I just assumed. I saw the condoms and birth control and figured..."

"Christine, are you a... virgin?" He grimaced. _Wow. Really, Erik?_

I sigh, "Yes, Erik."

"Don't you _dare_ lie to me, Christine." He growled at me, actually growled. I couldn't help but think if he put all of that anger into something incredibly sinful and pleasurable. _Bad, Christine. No carnal thoughts of Erik._

"I am not lying to you." I try to keep calm, but when he forces me up by my arms and starts pulling me down the stairs, I become full on furious. "Erik Destler! Let. Me. GO!" And, of course, he ignores me. So, the next time he locks his knees, before putting his other foot on the next step down, I kick. His leg jerks and his grip loosens, trying to regain his balance. I take this oppurtunity to run down the few steps left and slam the door as he comes to it. I sprint to the elevator, pressing the button, and, absolutely amazingly, it opens. I hurriedly press the penthouse button, almost shutting Erik out.

_God damn him! Son of a bitch, Erik! UGH! _He pulls the doors open and stomps inside. His chest heaves up and down, and not from running. He's absolutely, positively, thoroughly pissed. He stabs the penthouse button again, nostrils flaring. His anger is palpable and I can feel it engulfing me, dragging me down. I defiantly cross my arms and stick my chin up, facing away from him like a child.

"Who, Christine?"

"What?"

"Who has your innocence? Who took it?" He sneers at me.

I ignore him and go back to my childish way. He grabs my shoulders and turns me around, making me gasp.

"Don't you ignore me. I think its pretty obvious that I'm not in the mood to play games."

"Well, if your little games only need one person to play, then go ahead. I'm an unnecessary player because you refuse to listen to anything I say, anyway."

He growls at me again, making me jump, "You will tell me, Christine, because, if you don't, I will strap you down, call an OB-GYN, and have her run a series of tests letting me know who."

"Okay, one: Why not a man doctor, Erik? Scared I'll fuck him, too? And, two: How on earth could a doctor tell who it was if he wore a condom? Hmm?" I decided to make him paranoid, act like I'm not a virgin anymore.

"You're trying my patience, little one."

"Guess I'm not so little anymore, now that I've had some random dude inside me, huh?"

He stabs the stop button on the elevator, trapping me in a small, metal box with Erik and his short temper. That temper, though, is about to blow.

"Listen here, Christine. You will **not** disrespect me, I will **not** tolerate it. Stop these disgusting innuendos and tell me who the fucker is."

"No."

"I have never hit a girl before, don't make me start now." His eyes were glittering. _Tread lightly._

"Would you really hit me, Erik? Just because I gave my virginity to someone?" I acted as though my virginity could be something as simple as a kiss. It isn't, though. I'm saving myself for my husband.

"Just because?! Christine, your virtue, your innocence is precious! And you threw it away as though it was as simple as a kiss!" _How the fuck do we always end up thinking the same things? It's always been a little creepy..._

"Well, it's too late now, isn't it?"

"Ho-ly fuck, Christine. I have to get out of a closed space with you." He presses the button to continue our ride up. In a dreadfully low voice, he goes on, "I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you, but it better stop. I will not continue to talk, let alone live, with a whore." I pale, feeling the aftermath of my stupidity, once again. As his words completely sink in, the elevator dings open.

_Uh, oh. Well, there is Chapter 4: Ding. I hope you all liked it!_


	5. Sting

_Okay, guys. Wow, uh, this is really short. I have writer's block, or perhaps it's just that I don't have a ton of time... I need suggestions, help, something. Review and tell me what you want to read. I can write if someone tells me, I just have trouble getting ideas or being inspired. Please, please, please, review and talk to me. I'm a person, I like to talk. I'm geeky. Contacts AND glasses, freckles, an amazing boyfriend. I go to public school, and have a dirty mind- no a sexy imagination. ;) This is short, yes, but it's the only thing I could come up with. You can e-mail me(MJeanne358 at gmail), if you have time, or just jot down a quick review, PM, whatever. I love hearing from you guys!_

"What the fuck!" I jump off of the couch, feeling sick.

"Christine, please-"

"No! How dare he?" I run a hand through my hair, feeling the knots blocking my fingers from slipping through. It stings at my head, my hand pulling at the barriers in my brown locks.

"I'm only here-"

"To help! I know what you're here for; you've told me four times in the last five minutes!"

"I'm sorry, Christine. There's not much I can do except quit. And, if that's what you want, I will." She is really calm, but I can't find it in me to join her in happy, happy land.

"You know what?" I storm out of the bedroom, the door slamming behind me resonates in my ears with every step. Anastasia's voice is behind me, calling my name, but eventually dying down.

I march into the den, fully intent on giving Erik a peice of my mind, but I stop short. He sits, casually layed out on the plush cushions, reading a magazing with his feet propped on the back of the sofa. My eyes widen and he pays me no attention, humming to himself a cheerful little melody. I open my mouth to scream at him and he reads my mind. "Don't, my dear Christine." I'm dumbstruck. He never looks away from his reading and carefully flips the page, the paper rustling makes me jump. "Mrs. Anastasia will _not_ quit, and you _will_ respect her as you do me. She is to stay here, weekdays and on Saturday and Sunday from noon until I consent for her to leave. If her husband needs her for any reason, she will go. You will _not_ misbehave, lie, sneak out, or do anything of that sort. I will not allow another incident, like such in an elevator, to happen again." His voice drops on the last word and he looks at me from across the room. My jaw slacks and I simply stare, uncomprehending of what to do.

How dare he try and be a good parent now? He's never _really_ been there for me, other than to get someone to do it for him. I need to calm down, I'm saying things I don't mean. I love Erik, and he loves me. He's always been there for me.

"Dr. Tulone will see you now," he says, looking back to his magazine. All of a sudden, a blond woman in scrubs opens a door and walks out of a room, I've never been in, near the elevator. She opens her mouth to speak and closes it again, meeting my eyes. She smiles brightly, her perfect white teeth contrasting with her olive skin. My nostrils flare and I seethe with newfound anger. So, he really thinks I lost my virginity. Or, rather, found it and gave it to lost and found for some random loser to pick it up. Erik is such an idiot, sometimes. "Now, Christine," he pushes. "No." I turn around and storm towards the hall. In the mirror on the wall, I see him jump over the back of the sofa and run to me! He grabs me by the arm and I scream. He isn't hurting me, I'm just tired of this angry Erik. I suppose I haven't thought it all the way through... The stinging registers before the tears do. He gasps loudly and steps back, I see his blurry figure. My hand immediately goes to my left cheek, feeling the heat.


	6. Thought

_Okay, Hanna, I am so sorry. My mother cracked down on my computer privileges, and maybe she doesn't **completely** know I post on fanfiction... SO, I will probably be posting later on in the day, IF POSSIBLE. I definitely plan on updating more often... And, Hanna, I will NEVER abandon this story. I love all of my faithful followers, please continue reviewing and commenting. I get them in my e-mail, so please, feel free to blow my phone up. :)_

Dear, someone 1-17-12

So, I don't know exactly how this works. I mean, I've tried before, I just was never able to keep it up. I know you'll watch those movies where the main girl will keep one, and then someone finds it. Spreads like wildfire around the school. That must really suck; to have someone read your deepest, darkest secrets. I guess that's why I've never kept a diary before, I knew there was a possibility that my life could be ruined by a stupid book... My subconscious is smart.

Well, that makes one of us. People always tell me I'm intelligent and intellectual. I guess not, I mean, I'm stuck. Stuck forever trying to be me and then what everyone lese wants me to be... Oxymoron, much? Moron, yes.

Why does everything have to be so difficult? It's not like I go looking for drama, it just kind of finds me...

So, ...I guess I should start from the beginning. You have to get everything out, right? You're supposed to be my confidante and I should tell you absolutely everything, right? Well, how the hell am I going to be friends with a piece of paper? So many questions... unanswered questions.

Okay, Erik. So, I've never really told him this, but... I love his name. I love how it's spelled. You usually see it spelled with a "c" and I definitely like the "k" better.

Ugh, I don't like talking about this... ...Erik is officially my foster-father. I've never called him "dad," though. To be honest, I hate that he's my legal guardian. Not so much that he wasn't fun or didn't let me do stuff. More so that... him being my foster-father makes it terrible to think he's... incredibly sexy...

I mean, can you really blame me? Silky, black hair that falls down past his eyes, and the bright green that peeks out from under his long lashes. I can't get enough of his eyes, I could stare at them forever.

Now, that's a little much, but you get what I'm trying to say. He's just so damn perfect. Oh, yeah... the mask. Well, I don't really notice it anymore. I mean, it's always there, I'm just used to it... Nowadays, he wears it all day, because of Mrs. Anastasia.

I actually never thought I'd be able to confide in her. At first, I thought Erik was just trying to find another mom. Man, that tore me up... I mean, I never really knew my mom, but the idea of replacing her made me sick.

She's dead... they're both dead. When I was about five, they got in an accident. I didn't want to know all the gruesome details... still don't, to be honest. Erik had told me when I was nine, and I remember being really confused. I had always lived with Erik, so hearing about a mother and father I never knew made me question a lot of things.

How much more had Erik Kept from me? What else do I not know?

I don't want to think about it too much... it gets me upset. Erik is really the only person I trust, so if there was a huge secret he was keeping from me... I can see the betrayal now.

Okay, that might not be the _whole_ truth... I trust Mrs. Anastasia. She's been there for me for the past couple of months. She's actually going to help me pick out my dress for Prom. Yes, Prom. But Junior Prom... with... Raoul. Okay, he's gotten better! I don't know, he's really sweet to me. He opens doors and tells me I'm pretty. It's just refreshing from Erik to have him around. Besides, he doesn't get into trouble anymore.

Maybe... Erik doesn't know _all_ of this... Well, why would I tell him? He'd freak.

So, it's about midnight. Ummm... Until... whenever I remember. Goodbye.


	7. Gullible

"Raoul!" He lifted me by my waist, twirling me around the room. "Put me DOWN!" I squealed, loving how fun he was. Erik would never do this with me. Immediately, my body tensed. I felt my body go hot at the thought of him and scolded myself. I can't be with Erik. He's not right for me… Raoul is.

However, Raoul didn't seem to notice anything about my sudden change in attitude. He simply tossed me on his bed, the smell of boy and …some unusual smell filled my nose. I cringed at it, but was distracted by his sudden jump onto the bed. I smiled at how he was just a big kid. His boyish grin seeped into me and made me giggle. He only laughed with me.

All of a sudden, he covered my body with his, his fingers coming in contact with my sensitive sides. NO! I laughed uncontrollably, wanting the tickling to stop. He didn't.

I kicked, flailing. A sudden groan came to my ears as my laughs died down. I sat up, noticing the fetal position he now laid in. I gasped as the realization hit me.

"Raoul, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. Are you okay?" The words flooded out of my mouth before I had a chance to think properly. I kicked him in the balls… and I would never want to hurt Raoul. Well, not intentionally. The asshole stopped writhing on the bed and smirked at me, thinking he tricked me. Well, I suppose he did, but it still wasn't funny. I punched him in the shoulder and he chuckled.

"You are so gullible!"

Oh, what an ass. "I thought I hurt you. Now, I'm not even sorry." I crossed my arms and stuck my chin up, looking away from him. He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. I smiled meekly and turned towards him, crossing my legs and sitting "Indian style." He stared at me for a minute. I looked at my fingers, wringing my hands together in my lap. _He's making me feel self-conscious. Stop it, Raoul._

"So pretty…" I brought my gaze to his, wondering if I had just heard him right. Why would he say that? What caused him to say that?

"No, Raoul. Let's not get into this again." I went to stand up, but his hand on my arm made me turn. He gently pressed his lips to mine, the feeling… sweet. He pulled away and tucked a hair behind my ear, smiling at me. I half-smiled, knowing that Erik would kill me if he found out that I was here, let alone out of the house. He's at a meeting, though, he shouldn't be home yet. There's Erik again; always infiltrating my thoughts. Why can't he just leave me alone? Everything I do, I think, 'What would Erik think of this?' It drives me insane, but that constant nagging feeling of disappointing him rules out all the others.

"I think it's time I go, Raoul…" I smile at him, picking up my shoes and Vera Bradley purse from off the floor. He nods, holding the door open for me. I sit in the hall, pulling my shoes on. I had always felt comfortable here. His mom liked me, so I liked her back. Not really in a 'motherly' way, but more of a confidant, sort of. Sort of…

He drives me home, an awkward silence drifting through the seats of his car. I wring my fingers in my lap again, not knowing what to do. He pulls up to the front door and Jones, the Doorman opens the door for me. I smile at him and wave back at Raoul before going through the huge glass doors. Sighing, I push the Penthouse button on the elevator and wait patiently. Travelling up, I feel the slight sickness in my stomach. One would think that so many times on an elevator would make the queasiness dissipate. Oh, well.

I step through the doors of the elevator and stop in my tracks at the sight of Erik, brooding, and pacing around the suite.

He's not supposed to be home yet! I stay completely still, for a while. Well, probably a few seconds, but the obnoxious thumping of my heart in my chest drowned out all rationalizations. His gaze comes in contact with mine and my immediate response is to lie. To deny all of his accusations and pretend I never left the hotel. He would find out, I knew. He could read me, inside and out, like a book. And I hated it. But, then again, I loved it because I could be so open, so honest. It was fun when we spent hours just talking. He would tell me stories, we'd dance, he'd cook for m-

"Christine Elizabeth Daae." _Uh, oh… _His voice was quiet, deadly, as if he could puncture me with a thousand knives just by the sound of his voice. My throat caught and I suddenly found it hard to breath.

"Y-yes?"

"Well, would you like some tea? Or, perhaps some nice biscuits? I could call for a movie, we coul- God, damn it, Christine! What the fuck do you think?" I was shaking. From my head down to my toes, I shook where I stood. What was I supposed to do?

"I'm- I'm sorry, Erik." Screw lies, I went for pitiful.

"Damn right, you're sorry. Christine, I brought you here to keep you _safe_. How the hell am I supposed to do that when you deliberately break my rules?"

"I'm sorry, Erik…" I had nothing else to say. There was nothing else to say.

"Do I have to lock you in your room? Will that make you see reason? I love you, Christine; I only want the best for you." At this, he ran a hand through his black hair. "I don't want you seeing him, Christine, you know this."

"Erik-"

"No. It's not up for discussion. He is putting you in danger. There is someone out there who wants you, Christine. And, though none of this is your fault…" he trailed off, running a hand through his hair again, exasperated. "I have to keep you safe. I can't lose you." He sounded pained, distant. I slowly walked over to him, wrapping my arms around him. I loved his smell and just, well… him. He hugged me back, kissing the top of my head and whispering in my ear, "I can't lose you."

At that moment, I felt a stirring in my lower stomach. I sucked in a breath and boldly pressed a kiss to his neck. He gasped, loosening his grip on me. I tighten my arms around him and hope he doesn't pull away. He relaxes and I do it again. _Why am I so stupid? _If it weren't for the silent room, I wouldn't have heard his soft groan. That made my stomach clench deliciously and I wanted to hear it again. Praying he didn't think me disgusting, I kissed his ear, letting my tongue lick the lobe before gently pulling with my teeth. He groaned once more and my breathing grew ragged. I knew he heard it. To my complete and utter surprise, he kissed my neck and whispered in my ear again, "What are you doing?"

His voice was unusual, rough. I gasped when his hands went to my hair, twisting his fingers in my untamed waves and pulled my head back a bit. I saw his eyes and they were dark, incredibly fascinating, and sensual. I swallowed hard and held to his arms. His nostrils flared and he groaned before quickly fusing our lips together.


	8. Amazing

"...There is someone out there who wants you, Christine. And, though none of this is your fault…" he trailed off, running a hand through his hair again, exasperated. "I have to keep you safe. I can't lose you." He sounded pained, distant. I slowly walked over to him, wrapping my arms around him. I loved his smell and just, well… him. He hugged me back, kissing the top of my head and whispering in my ear, "I can't lose you."

At that moment, I felt a stirring in my lower stomach. I sucked in a breath and boldly pressed a kiss to his neck. He gasped, loosening his grip on me. I tighten my arms around him and hope he doesn't pull away. He relaxes and I do it again. Why am I so stupid? If it weren't for the silent room, I wouldn't have heard his soft groan. That made my stomach clench deliciously and I wanted to hear it again. Praying he didn't think me disgusting, I kissed his ear, letting my tongue lick the lobe before gently pulling with my teeth. He groaned once more and my breathing grew ragged. I knew he heard it. To my complete and utter surprise, he kissed my neck and whispered in my ear again, "What are you doing?"

His voice was unusual, rough. I gasped when his hands went to my hair, twisting his fingers in my untamed waves and pulled my head back a bit. I saw his eyes and they were dark, incredibly fascinating, and sensual. I swallowed hard and held to his arms. His nostrils flared and he groaned before quickly fusing our lips together.

Oh, god. This was unlike any chaste kiss Raoul had ever given me. This was... passionate, frenzied, spontaneous. This was amazing. His mouth moved against mine, soft but demanding. I moaned, creeping my hands up and around his head to twist my fingers in that sexy, jet black hair. He groaned into my mouth a second before I felt him enter my mouth. It was weird, but, with every touch of our tongues, the clenching came back. Oh, who was I kidding? It never left.

He snaked his hands down my body, feeling my waist, the curve of my back, my hips, my- oh! He was kneading my bottom, pulling me against him and grinding his hardness against me. _Oh, god. Oh, god!_ I moaned loudly, feeling wanton but not caring. My head fell back and his lips found my neck, tasting and taking. "Please," I was begging. What did he do to me? I wasn't thinking straight, but, fuck it, I didn't care. "Oh, don't stop!" He groaned again, taking my leg and lifting it. I gasped when he sucked my collarbone, slowly going lower, and brought my thigh against his. Teasing him, I rubbed my leg up and down his thigh, tilting my hips up, and up, and up...

Abruptly, he pulled away from me. His hair messed up, his eyes a darker green than I've ever seen them, and his lips swollenBand parted, probably very similar to how mine looked.

"We can't- I shouldn't have- Christi- Ugh!" He threw his hands up, a look of utter confusion and frustration etched across his face. I was confused as well. I was having fun... Was he not enjoying it? Was I not good enough? Does he not like me like that? All of these questions bombarded my thoughts and I suddenly felt the urge to cry. I tried to push it back ...I really did. The burn and the sting of them, though, got the better of me.

He looked pained as his gaze met mine. I couldn't take it. A single tear ran down my face and I lost it. I ran. I ran to my room. I ran away from him. I ran away from my feelings... I'm not supposed to feel that way about my "father." I'm so disgusting.


End file.
